


summer skin

by nightswatch



Series: transatlanticism [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras spends two months with Grantaire in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	summer skin

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the longest unchaptered fic I've ever written. I tried to check for mistakes, but there might be some I didn't see.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a cab?”

“Yeah, let’s take the subway,” Enjolras said. He was still holding Grantaire’s hand and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to let go any time soon. “I always take the metro in Paris.”

“Let me guess,” Grantaire said slowly, nudging him gently, “because it’s environmentally friendly?”

Enjolras frowned. “Really, you’re making fun of me _already_?”

“Sorry,” Grantaire said and squeezed his hand. “It’s going to take forever, you know? Just to warn you.”

“I don’t care.” He wouldn’t mind walking as long as Grantaire would be walking beside him. He wasn’t quite aware of what was happening around him, he just followed Grantaire around, watched as he got him a metro card, just looking at him, trying to answer as best as he could when Grantaire asked about his flight and about what he wanted to do the rest of the day.

“We’ll do whatever you want,” Grantaire was saying as they got onto the subway. “I mean, are you hungry or thirsty or anything?”

“I’m tired,” Enjolras said, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “And maybe a little hungry.”

“Anything specific you want to get?” Grantaire asked. “We can go out to eat, I’m sure Jehan would love to come with us… he’ll probably still be at work when we get home, but yeah, anyway, we can also get pizza or, you know, there’s a great Sushi place around the corner from our apartment, and if you don’t like Sushi we can get something from the Thai restaurant next to it. Or, yeah… whatever you want.”

Enjolras looked at him, at his bright blue eyes and his stubbly jaw, and found that he really couldn’t concentrate on food right now. “I don’t know,” he said lowly.

“Well, you don’t have to decide right now,” Grantaire said, smiling a little too brightly, “or not at all, I mean, I can just get you something.”

Enjolras nodded. “Okay.”

“I talk a lot when I’m nervous, you’re lucky you never had to spend time with me right before a gig” Grantaire deadpanned. “Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Enjolras said quietly. He was nervous as hell, too, he was surprised that he was still able to form proper sentences and hadn’t started babbling in French yet. “I’m really excited to be here, you have no idea.”

Grantaire laughed. “Okay, good, I’m glad. Because I’m really excited, too.”

Enjolras looked back down at their hands, wondering if Grantaire could still feel his fingers, because he was holding on so tightly. He loosened his grip and Grantaire hesitantly pulled his hand away, still smiling, but looking a little disappointed.

It was amazing that Enjolras was at a loss already. He didn’t know much about these things. He’d had a boyfriend once when he was seventeen, and he’d been the only one Enjolras had ever been with. Then Enjolras had studied for his final exams, then he’d gone to university, where he’d been otherwise occupied. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t know _anything_ about these things.

He hadn’t wasted a single thought on what was going to happen once he actually got here.

He’d just come here and kissed Grantaire in the middle of an airport and now he wasn’t even remotely sure if that had been the right thing to do. “I kissed you,” he mumbled, “I just kissed you and I didn’t even ask you if it was okay.”

“It was,” Grantaire said immediately, “if it hadn’t been, I would have let you know, believe me. It was more than okay. Feel free to kiss me anytime you want. Really, anytime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Enjolras said, refraining from taking Grantaire’s hand again, because his palms were sweaty and he was pretty sure that Grantaire wouldn’t appreciate it if he did.

Grantaire laughed softly. “Please do.”

Enjolras, too, laughed nervously and then fell silent and concentrated on trying not to fall asleep. He’d spent the previous night worrying about his flight and getting to the airport and making sure he’d packed everything and needed and he hadn’t really managed to sleep on the flight over either.

Technically it was six hours later for him, too. It was evening home in Paris, Combeferre and Courfeyrac were probably having dinner just now. He’d have to remember to let them know he was still alive once they’d made it to Grantaire’s.

They did, eventually, because Grantaire had been right – taking the subway did take forever. They had to walk to his apartment, too, and Grantaire insisted to carry his suitcase upstairs, his face red and sweaty when they made it to the topmost floor.

“Thank you,” Enjolras said as Grantaire unlocked the door and showed him inside.

“I have a spare key for you,” Grantaire said, walking down the narrow hallway, beckoning Enjolras to follow him.

Enjolras closed the door, inspecting the pile of shoes next to the door and the small dry-erase board on the wall.

“It’s not much, sorry,” Grantaire continued, “anyway, you’ll be sleeping here,” he added and opened a door to a room that Enjolras had seen a hundred times before.

It was Grantaire’s room, only a lot tidier than Enjolras had ever seen it. “Wait, what happened to the couch?” Enjolras asked.

“It’s in the living room, where’s it’s supposed to be,” Grantaire said and put Enjolras’ suitcase next to the bed. “I made room for you in the closet, but I can clear out a drawer or something if you need more space for your stuff. I put some towels for you in the bathroom, which is right across the hall,” he said and pointed in the general direction of where the bathroom was.

Enjolras smiled, still having trouble to actually listen to what Grantaire was saying to him and not just staring at him. “Thank you so much.”

“Sure thing,” Grantaire mumbled. “Do you want the rest of the apartment? Probably won’t take long.”

Enjolras nodded enthusiastically. He’d always wondered how Grantaire lived, even though he’d caught a glimpse of his living room once or twice, Grantaire had mostly been sitting in his room whenever he’d called him on skype.

“Okay, come with me.” Grantaire took him by the hand and led him back down the hall. “This is Jehan’s room, I’m not gonna show you, I’m not sure what kind of mess he has in there. And this is the living room, which is really small and not very impressive, just like the rest of the apartment.”

The living room was indeed small, the walls were lined with shelves, full of books, CDs and DVDs and the occasional knick-knack. There was a small TV and a big leather couch, a big abstract painting on the only free wall. And although Enjolras didn’t really know anything about art, it did look sort of expensive to him.

The moved on to the kitchen, which was tiny, even tinier than the one they had in their apartment in Paris. Enjolras probably wouldn’t spend much time in here anyway, since cooking really wasn’t his forte, so it didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Grantaire seemed to be a little embarrassed with the size and state of his apartment, though, because his cheeks were red and he was ducking his head a little, waiting for Enjolras to say something. Enjolras didn’t understand why he would be embarrassed, he knew how expensive it was to live in a city this size, and Grantaire and his roommate had really made the best of it. It was cozy, charming, in a way, they’d painted the walls and had made it entirely their own.

Enjolras could already tell that he was going to like it here.

Of course he’d had doubts about living with Grantaire for such a long time. He could only hope that he hadn’t been spoiled with Courfeyrac and Combeferre as his roommates. Enjolras smiled at the thought of his friends, who were probably eagerly waiting for him to get in touch. “It’s lovely,” Enjolras said. “Tiny, but lovely.”

Grantaire grinned. “We can go shopping and buy food you like whenever you want, I mean, you probably won’t get any frogs here, or whatever it is you like to eat in France, but we can get you a baguette or something.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras said dryly.

“I’m just trying to make you feel at home.” Grantaire’s grin widened and leaned back against the counter. Due to the size of the kitchen, Enjolras was still only inches away from him. There really wasn’t anywhere to go except, well, out of the kitchen. “Right, any wishes? Questions? Anything I can get you?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras leaned forwards, briefly thinking about what Grantaire had said on the subway, and wrapped his arms around him. Grantaire hummed, his arms locking around Enjolras’ waist. He fit against him like a missing puzzle piece with his head tucked under Enjolras’ chin. “Can we just… hang out?” Enjolras asked. He felt too exhausted to do anything out of the ordinary. It was incredibly hard just to stay away and not fall asleep right where he was standing.

“Absolutely,” Grantaire said. “I’ll just give you some time to, um, settle in? And unpack your stuff and all that. And I’ll go find all our takeout menus and then we can order something to eat.”

“Sounds good.” Enjolras stepped out of the kitchen and started walking down the hall, then he turned back around. “Are you sure you want me to stay in your room?” He felt bad for just hijacking his life like this and now Grantaire even wanted to move out of his room for him. Or maybe he’d stay in his room with him.

“Oh yeah, that’s fine, our couch is really comfy, I don’t mind.” Or maybe not. Grantaire gently pushed him towards his room. “Don’t argue with me on this, okay?”

“Okay,” Enjolras muttered and busied himself with unpacking his suitcase, but not before he’d sent a text to Combeferre, telling him he was here and doing just fine. He didn’t mention that he’d kissed Grantaire, mainly because he wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it.  

Five minutes later, however, he got a message from Courfeyrac.

_Courfeyrac: did u kiss him_

_Courfeyrac: pls tell me u did_

_Courfeyrac: i’ve been routing for you guys_

_Courfeyrac: was it a super dramatic airport kiss_

_Courfeyrac: is he a good kisser_

_Courfeyrac: tell me_

_Courfeyrac: ferre says u wouldnt but I bet him ten bucks that u did_

_Courfeyrac: dont disappoint me son_

_You: I’m not telling you._

_Courfeyrac: SO YOU DID_

_Courfeyrac: I KNEW IT :)_

_Courfeyrac: IM SO PROUD :) :)_

_Courfeyrac: WAS IT REALLY AMAZING????????_

_Courfeyrac: come on man give me details_

_You: I don’t even know what you want to hear, we kissed, end of story._

_Courfeyrac: BUT WAS IT REALLY AMAZING COME ON THATS A SIMPLE QUESTION_

Enjolras looked down at his phone, thinking. Of course it had been amazing, but how did he say that without sounding like a lovesick teenager?

_You: It was really nice._

_Courfeyrac: just nice?? really???_

_You: Well, it was more than just nice._

_Courfeyrac: so it was really amazing? is that what youre trying to tell me??_

_You: Basically._

_Courfeyrac: ur hopeless_

_Courfeyrac: go kiss him again_

_Courfeyrac: I have to go get my ten bucks from ferre_

Enjolras snorted, then he busied himself with what was left in his suitcase.

He could hear Grantaire rummaging through cupboards in the kitchen and Enjolras smiled to himself, because he was really here in this room and Grantaire was right down the hall.

Enjolras slowly looked around the room, found Grantaire’s keyboard standing pushed against the wall, one of his guitars leaning next to it. Enjolras also finally got to inspect the posters on the wall that he’d never managed to get a good look at. Most of them announced bands Enjolras had never heard of, one of them was one of Grantaire’s own shows, dating back four years.

“That was my first gig,” Grantaire said. “Ten months after I’d moved here.”

Enjolras turned around to find Grantaire leaning in the doorway. “How was it?” Enjolras asked.

“Disastrous,” Grantaire answered, smirking. “But it was a gig, you know? It didn’t pay well, but people actually came to listen to me play. Only about five people, but still. Jehan was one of them, bought me a drink after the show and we’ve been friends ever since. We moved in here a couple of months after we’d met.”

“Where did you live before?” Enjolras asked as he continued shoving his shirts into Grantaire’s closet.

Grantaire shrugged. “Here and there,” he said. He sat down on the bed, cross-legged, watching as Enjolras moved about the room. “My friend Bahorel always had room for me on his couch, but it wasn’t the greatest time of my life, to be honest.”

 Enjolras nodded, thinking it was probably a good idea to change the subject. “When is Jehan getting back from work?”

“Won’t be much longer,” Grantaire mumbled, tilting his head. “Why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering. You know, you said we could have dinner with him or something.”

“You hungry?” Grantaire asked, laughing his quiet laugh.

“A little,” Enjolras had to admit.

“Wait here,” Grantaire said, disappearing down the hall, only to return with a huge stack of takeout menus, which he dumped onto Enjolras’ lap.

* * *

Grantaire still couldn’t quite believe that Enjolras was really here, even though he was _right there_.

He was sitting on the couch, joking around with Jehan, who’d got back from work about half an hour ago. He hadn’t actually thought that they might not get along, but it still had been nagging at him a little. The two of them had talked before, but only ever a couple of minutes at a time when Jehan had happened to come into Grantaire’s room while he’d been talking to Enjolras.

But, despite his initial concerns, things were going great. Grantaire could count the times he’d felt like he really needed a drink on one hand. Thankfully. He’d expected it to be so much worse, simply because getting a drink was his coping mechanism for every stressful situation, and Enjolras being here was nothing but a prolonged stressful situation.

He had to make sure he wouldn’t fuck this up. He had to make sure they got along.

Well, for now he only had to listen to Enjolras and Jehan chatting animatedly about Paris, which had been the main topic of their conversation ever since Enjolras had handed Jehan the little Eiffel Tower he’d brought for him.

It was an entirely different experience to see Enjolras throw his head back when he laughed and it took all of Grantaire’s self-control not to crawl into Enjolras’ lap and stroke his beautiful blond curls and kiss him and hold on to him to make sure he didn’t just disappear.

He wanted to talk to him, too, preferably about where exactly they stood after they’d already made out at the airport. Grantaire definitely hoped that it hadn’t been a one-time occurrence and he wanted to take him out on a date and show him all his favorite spots in the city and fall asleep next to him every single night until Enjolras had to go back home, but he first had to figure out if Enjolras wanted that, too. And it was terrifying as hell.

Jehan, like the angel he was, made sure that Grantaire ended up sitting next to Enjolras when they watched a movie in the evening, and Enjolras kept nodding off throughout. Grantaire was surprised that he was trying so hard to stay awake. It was basically the middle of the night for him and his day must have been exhausting. By the time the credist were starting to roll, however, it was half past nine and Enjolras was fast asleep with his head resting against Grantaire’s shoulder.

“Enjolras looks tired,” Jehan said jokingly. “Do you think we should wake him up so he can go to bed?”

Grantaire turned his head so he could glimpse at Enjolras. He was adorable as ever, and Grantaire almost felt bad for waking him up. He nudged Enjolras, whose eyes fluttered open immediately.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Grantaire whispered.

Enjolras groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“We thought you might want to go to bed,” Grantaire said, ignoring his protests.

Enjolras hummed and looked around the dark room. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty,” Jehan replied, grinning at them.

“Do you mind if I go to bed?” Enjolras asked, looking at Grantaire. “We can get up early and…” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Grantaire nodded. “Sure, let us know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thank you,” Enjolras said, smiling at them as he got off the couch. “Good night.”

“Bonne nuit,” Jehan crooned.

Grantaire nearly hit him in the face, but wished Enjolras a good night instead. Enjolras lingered in the doorway for a second, then he walked out the door, silently closing it behind him.

Grantaire turned to look at Jehan. “Should I go and…” He paused, not quite sure what he was even trying to ask. “Tuck him in or something?”

Jehan rolled his eyes. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He poked him in the side with his toes. “Go.”

“Yeah, you’re right, of course you’re right,” Grantaire said and jumped up. He went back to his room, sat down on his bed and waited for Enjolras to emerge from the bathroom.

He did eventually, wearing the most ridiculous silk pajama pants and a faded shirt, smiling when he found Grantaire waiting for him.

“I just wanted to say good night,” Grantaire muttered.

Enjolras sat down next to him, an amused smile playing around his lips. “Again?”

Grantaire nodded. “Again,” he confirmed. “You’re sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’m all set,” Enjolras replied, his lips curling into a smile as if he knew exactly that Grantaire wanted nothing more than to kiss him again.

He did have the most beautiful lips. Grantaire suddenly found himself wishing he still had painting equipment – or at least his old Polaroid camera. “Okay,” Grantaire whispered, “I’ll let you sleep, then.”

Grantaire was about the stand up when Enjolras caught him by the elbow. “I thought you wanted to say good night.”

Grantaire did not start laughing hysterically, even though he very much felt like doing so, and gave him a chaste kiss, too chaste for Enjolras’ taste, it seemed, because Enjolras’ fingers snuck into his hair and pulled him close again, tongue coaxing Grantaire’s lips open. Grantaire sighed happily, staying  completely still with his forehead resting against Enjolras’ for a minute or two, just holding on to him, before giving him another quick kiss and letting him go to bed.

Jehan was still in the living room, the TV still on but with his nose in a book, grinning broadly when Grantaire joined him on the couch. “Right, this is where you tell me everything.”

“He kissed me,” Grantaire whispered. Somehow he’d got this lucky and he still didn’t quite understand how it had happened.  “Multiple times. And he’s really good at it. Is that why it’s called French kissing? Because they’re just so damn good at it? Did they invent kissing?”

Jehan snorted and took his hand. “I’m glad it worked out so well for you. Looks like you spent the last four week angsting about nothing.”

Grantaire didn’t even try to deny that he’d been a nervous wreck. He still had more than enough things to worry about. “Yeah, but still… what happens when those two months are up,” he mumbled. “I have no idea how the hell I’m supposed to let him go back home.”

* * * **  
**

As he’d suspected before he’d gone to bed, Enjolras woke up at five in the morning and was wide awake and ready to get up and face the day. Obviously he couldn’t wake up Grantaire just yet.

He was a little disappointed that Grantaire had really stayed in the living room to sleep on the couch last night. Since they’d kissed already, sharing a bed really didn’t seem like a big deal, especially since Grantaire’s bed was ridiculously big, as everything seemed to be in America – at least going by what he’d seen so far – and there was easily enough space for both of them.  

It wouldn’t have been a big deal in any case, but obviously Grantaire wanted to give him space. He’d heard Jehan and Grantaire whispering out in the hallway when they’d gone to bed,  and he’d heard Grantaire say something that had sounded like, “I just don’t want to hover and annoy him,” but Enjolras had hardly realized, he’d gone back to sleep almost instantly.

Now that he was awake and had time to think about it, though, he felt like he needed to tell Grantaire that he actually wanted him to. He wanted to spend every possible second with him.

He turned over with a weary sigh, watching the radio clock on the nightstand change from 5:04 to 5:05 and to 5:06. He could always get his laptop and write a blog entry, except that he didn’t really have much to say so far – at least nothing that didn’t involve endless gushing over Grantaire. And Enjolras didn’t gush. Not ever. 

He should just go back to sleep, but it was so strange to be all alone in a room that wasn’t his, in a country he only knew from television shows. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to think of nothing, but his thoughts kept wandering back to Grantaire and the memory of Grantaire’s lips on his, too, still lingered.

When Enjolras still hadn’t been able to go back to sleep when the clock read 5:45, he slowly slipped out of bed and padded down the hall to the living room. He didn’t even know why, all he knew was that he couldn’t stay in bed any longer. Maybe he could get a glass of water on the way.

There Grantaire was, sprawled out on the living room couch, his blanket on the floor, one leg hanging off the couch, an arm draped over his eyes, snoring loudly. It was endearing. No, Enjolras really couldn’t wake him up right now, this had been a horrible idea.

He turned around to retreat, a wooden floorboard creaking under his weight when he did.

“Jehan?” Grantaire muttered, moving his arm so he could see what was going on.

“No, it’s me,” Enjolras whispered. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Grantaire sat up abruptly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’ll just go back to bed,” Enjolras said quietly. “It’s just… I couldn’t sleep and I was just…” He shook his head. He was being ridiculous. He should have said that he’d got lost on his way to the kitchen.

“What?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras took a deep breath. “I was wondering… if you maybe wanted to come back to bed with me?”

Grantaire only stared at him in the dim light of the slowly rising sun, looking a little taken aback, but did get off the couch eventually and walked him back down the hall, his hand resting on the small of Enjolras’ back.

Grantaire crawled into bed next to him, keeping a polite distance until Enjolras wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Is this okay?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire’s arm snuck around his waist in return, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, which was answer enough for Enjolras. “You need to tell me if this is happening to fast.”

Yes, Enjolras was pretty sure that there was an order in which certain things were supposed to happen in when you were in a relationship with someone and he was pretty sure that you weren’t supposed to do half of those things in the space of twenty-four hours, then again, Enjolras had never given too much about conventions. “We only have two months,” he whispered. “This is just fine.”

Grantaire chuckled. “You do make good points.”

“Always have,” Enjolras said, nuzzling at Grantaire’s hair.

“Not always,” Grantaire teased. He burrowed closer, as close as he could possibly get, slowly running his knuckles up and down Enjolras’ spine. “Now go back to sleep.”

“But the sun’s coming up,” Enjolras said and shifted so he could kiss Grantaire’s forehead. “Are you sure you want to sleep?”

“What do you want to do instead?” Grantaire asked tilting his head until their lips were almost touching. “Any suggestions?”

“I have a few,” Enjolras mused. His hands knotted in Grantaire’s curls, keeping him as close as possible, kissing him languidly.

The clock read 7:14 when Grantaire fell asleep in his arms and Enjolras couldn’t have been happier.

* * *

“So, what do you want to do today?” Grantaire asked. He was standing in the kitchen, Enjolras was sitting on the counter, still in his pajamas, his hair a mess, lit up by the sun shining in through the small window, sipping a cup of coffee and watching as Grantaire made breakfast.

Grantaire had decided that he’d make Enjolras a proper breakfast before they set out. He was making pancakes and bacon and hash browns and Enjolras seemed to be absolutely delighted, even though he’d frowned at the hash browns in the beginning.

“I’m not sure,” Enjolras said slowly. “I’d suggest going back to bed, but then again, I’m in New York.”

“You are,” Grantaire confirmed. “Anything in particular you want to see?”

Enjolras looked at him for a moment, and Grantaire could have sworn that he was blushing. “Can we go to Times Square?”

Grantaire let out an undignified snort. “You’re such a tourist.”

“I was afraid you might say that,” Enjolras muttered. “Can we still go, though?”

“Anything for you,” Grantaire said and generously piled a couple of pancakes onto a plate for Enjolras.

He’d been expecting that Enjolras would want to go sightseeing and he was happy to oblige and play tour guide for a day or two. He hardly ever made it to Manhattan, since he lived and worked in Brooklyn and most of his gigs were in bars and clubs in… not Manhattan. Never Manhattan.

Enjolras was still smiling widely when they sat down in the living room with their breakfast. “Well, I don’t want to push my luck, but can we take a quick look at the Statue of Liberty as well?”

“Of course you’d want to see that one,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, isn’t that what you want? Liberty for the people?” Grantaire asked, grinning.

“Amongst other things,” Enjolras said, giving him the _Grantaire, you’re not taking me seriously_ look that he already knew all too well. Only now it was live and not a grainy webcam picture.

“Aw, come on, I’m just teasing.” Grantaire nudged him. “We can go anywhere you want, I’ll show you every tourist hotspot I can think of, I promise. We can have dinner at Olive Garden. Then we can go on a carriage ride in Central Park. I won’t complain.”

“Well, we don’t have to go overboard on the touristy things,” Enjolras muttered.

They did end up in Central Park later that day, after Grantaire had taken Enjolras to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, then up to Times Square, to Grand Central Station, rattling on about the ceiling, maybe for a little too long, Enjolras listening patiently anyhow, and then down to the Whispering Arch.

Now they were sitting on a rock in the sun, Enjolras leaning back against Grantaire’s chest, watching as tourists failed to keep their boats from colliding with others. Once again Grantaire’s fingers were itching for a pencil, for paint, anything to put this moment on paper with to make sure he’d never forget that this had actually happened.

“What do you want to get for dinner?” Grantaire asked when they were on the subway on the way back to Brooklyn. “There’s one more thing I want to show you, but we should get something to eat first.”

“You pick,” Enjolras said, yawning. He leaned against Grantaire. “I hate jetlag.”

“We can go to bed early,” Grantaire said, smiling involuntarily. “I’ll let you steal the covers again.”

Enjolras let out a snort that shouldn’t have been at all attractive. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. You’re basically like a space heater anyway.” Grantaire wasn’t looking forward to the next heat wave, which would undoubtedly come sooner or later, when his already not-quite-good air conditioning would eventually not do it anymore and sleeping with Enjolras wrapped around him would be a fucking pain. He knew he still wouldn’t mind.

By the time they’d reached their stop Enjolras had fallen asleep and Grantaire had taken a picture of him with his phone, because he was sure that Courfeyrac and Combeferre would be delighted to see how much Enjolras was enjoying himself in New York.

They got way too much Chinese food, although Jehan would probably be happy to help with the leftovers, then Grantaire led him back to his room and handed him the bag of food. “Wait here, I’ll come get you in a bit.”

“What are you doing?” Enjolras asked, looking a little confused. Grantaire couldn’t blame him.

“Just wait here,” he said and pushed Enjolras down on the bed, “and make sure the food doesn’t run away.”

Enjolras smiled. “I’m sure it won’t.”

Grantaire stuck his tongue out at him. “Shut up, just wait here, okay?”

Enjolras nodded and Grantaire bustled out of his room, picking up a blanket and some cushions from the living room, a bottle of wine and their only two wine glasses, then he got some of Jehan’s candles. This was a date, even though Enjolras didn’t know about it yet and if he could trust Jehan – and he usually tended to do so – candles were always a good thing.

He grabbed the keys for the door to the roof, and no, Grantaire still wasn’t sure how Jehan had got a hold of those, but they had them and he surely wouldn’t complain.

He quickly set everything up and went to get Enjolras, who seemed to be busy with his phone. “Courfeyrac is still awake,” he said as way of explanation, but quickly put his phone down. “Are you done with whatever it is you’ve been doing?”

“I am,” Grantaire confirmed. He held out his hand. “Now, how about a date?”

“A date,” Enjolras echoed, grinning as he took Grantaire’s hand. “That sounds wonderful.” He held up their takeout. “I’ll bring the food.”

Grantaire laughed and led Enjolras up to the roof, tugging him down onto the blanket. Enjolras watched as Grantaire fiddled with the lighter, somehow managing to look amused and worried at the same time when Grantaire failed to light the candles because his hands were trembling ever so slightly.

“Do you need help with that?” Enjolras asked and took the lighter from him without waiting for an answer. “No need to be nervous.”

“I’m not,” Grantaire whispered, although there was no way Enjolras would believe him. He was so, so nervous and he wasn’t even sure why, because they’d spent a wonderful day together and everything was perfect. That was it, probably, everything was perfect and usually they couldn’t even make it through a Skype call without starting to fight about something.

The peace couldn’t last this long. Then Enjolras would realize that he couldn’t possibly stay here with him for two months.

“Really,” Enjolras said and leaned in to kiss him, “I mean, we’re doing everything in the wrong order, it’s not like you can mess anything up. You’re definitely getting a good night kiss again today.”

Grantaire couldn’t help but smile at that. “Well, you’re not wrong.” But he wasn’t right either, because Grantaire could think of a dozen ways to mess everything up.

Enjolras nodded. “I’m never-“

Before Enjolras could finish, Grantaire stuffed a spring roll into his mouth. Their food wasn’t exactly warm anymore, but neither of them really cared enough to run downstairs to put it in the microwave.

Grantaire even managed to calm down a little once he’d had two glasses of wine. Enjolras only had one, which was still enough to turn his cheeks the loveliest pink.

They ended up lying next to each other, Enjolras with his eyes fixed at the darkening sky, Grantaire on his side, an arm wrapped around him, tracing the outline of his ribs, letting his fingers wander further down and along the patch of skin where Enjolras’ shirt had ridden up, which was where his hand stilled. He didn’t want to push things too far too soon.

Enjolras hummed contently, so he obviously hadn’t fucked up yet. “Do you come up here often?” Enjolras asked quietly.

“Not nearly as often as I want to,” Grantaire replied, nosing along the line of Enjolras’ neck. “It’s nice enough, but light pollution is a terrible thing, so it gets a little boring without any stars to watch.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the stargazing type,” Enjolras said. His eyes fluttered shut when Grantaire started planting kisses along the line of his jaw.  

“Well,” Grantaire mumbled, “I’m not, but Jehan is and he drags me up here every now and then, so he has someone to talk to. Or not talk to. Sometimes I come up here to write songs, too.”

“You should play for me again,” Enjolras said, turning over so he was facing Grantaire, hooking a leg around Grantaire’s, “but not right now.”

“I like the way you think,” Grantaire muttered. He pulled Enjolras closer, hands slipping under his shirt and Enjolras made a soft whimpering noise that made Grantaire feel a little lightheaded.

Enjolras bumped his nose against Grantaire’s. “I knew you’d come around eventually.”

Grantaire sighed happily and shut Enjolras up with another kiss.

* * *

Enjolras knew he’d promised Courfeyrac and Combeferre that he’d call them today and he knew that it was nearly noon and that he needed to get out of bed and take a shower, but Grantaire’s head was pillowed on his chest and Enjolras was still too occupied with Grantaire’s fluffy dark curls that were tickling his chin and his tattoos, which were scattered all over his body, some of them colorful, some of them hidden in places where only people who were willing to explore would find them.

Enjolras was pretty sure that Grantaire had been wearing a shirt when they’d gone to bed last night – not nearly as early as they’d meant to, but Enjolras hadn’t really cared. Grantaire had made sure to give him reason enough to keep his eyes open.

Anyhow, he really couldn’t move, and he didn’t want to either, but his Combeferre and Courfeyrac would be so, so cross with him if he ditched them.

Enjolras slowly ran his fingers up and down Grantaire’s arm. Grantaire only grumbled something unintelligible, but at least rolled off of him, face now hidden in a pillow. “Grantaire,” Enjolras whispered, letting his fingers wander down Grantaire’s side, “wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” Grantaire whispered.

“I have to call Courfeyrac and Combeferre,” Enjolras told him, “and I should probably go take a shower before I do.”

Grantaire sighed and sat up. “I’ll go get donuts,” he said, a sleepy smile playing around his lips.

Enjolras nodded, eyes fixed on Grantaire’s chest. “Thanks,” he muttered, eyes snapping back up to Grantaire’s face.

Grantaire smiled uncertainly. “Sorry… I wasn’t kidding when I said you’d make a good space heater.” He quickly fished his shirt off the floor and tugged it on inside out.

“I didn’t mind,” Enjolras blurted out. He hardly had time to regret it.

“Well,” Grantaire said, “I can take it off again.”

And it wasn’t that Enjolras didn’t want him to, but he had about fifteen minutes to take a shower before he had to call his friends and Grantaire could be incredibly distracting when he wanted to be. He didn’t have time for this right now. “Later?” Enjolras suggested and slipped out of bed.

“Anytime you want,” Grantaire said, winking. He, too, got up, pulling on clothes, and kissed Enjolras on the cheek before he sauntered out the door.

Enjolras looked after him for a few seconds, then he took a quick shower and returned to Grantaire’s room, where Grantaire was already waiting for him, a box of donuts next to him on the bed.

“Who’s going to eat all of those?” Enjolras asked as he flopped down next to Grantaire, sending drops of water flying everywhere.

“You underestimate my donut eating abilities,” Grantaire said, wiping at his face. “Do you need a hairdryer? I’m sure you can borrow Jehan’s. You can also ask Jehan to do all kinds of crazy shit with your hair, he’ll be happy to help.”

“I think I’m good,” Enjolras said and took the most colorful of the donuts, turning his laptop on at the same time.

Grantaire snorted and reached for one of the simple glazed ones. “You’re entirely too predictable.” He left, half of the donut still between his teeth, to get coffee for both of them and when he returned Enjolras was already talking to Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

They were sitting in Courfeyrac’s bed, both of them waving at him, bombarding him with questions immediately. The first thing they asked was where Grantaire was. Enjolras should have expected as much.

Courfeyrac started clapping his hands like an over-excited toddler when Grantaire finally appeared and switched from French to English immediately. “There you are, we’ve been waiting for you to show up.”

“I just got some coffee,” Grantaire said, smiling at them before he handed Enjolras a cup. “How are you guys doing?”

“Very good now that Enjolras is gone,” Courfeyrac said seriously. “He’s such a pain in the ass, honestly.”

Combeferre immediately took a pillow and shoved it into Courfeyrac’s face. “What he’s trying to say is that he misses Enjolras terribly, even though he’s only been gone for a couple of days, and he’s been whining about it ever since he’s left.”

“I’m taking good care of him, don’t worry,” Grantaire said and slung his arm around Enjolras’ shoulder.

Enjolras laughed and leaned against Grantaire.

* * *

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just doing the washing up,” Grantaire muttered. He should have expected Jehan to come and talk to him. He just knew him too well.

“I’ve never seen you volunteer so fast,” Jehan mused, leaning against the counter, studying Grantaire’s face carefully. “So I’m guessing something’s wrong.”

Grantaire glanced at the open door and sighed. “I’m fine.”

“You know, he’s asleep, poor thing, still hasn’t quite overcome his jetlag,” Jehan said quietly. “Tell me what troubles you, son,” he added and elbowed him in the ribs.

“Everything’s going so well,” Grantaire whispered, “I know that shouldn’t worry me, but it does, you know, I really like him, I even lit fucking candles last night, that’s how much I like him, and you know what happens when I really like people. I fuck everything up.”

“Don’t say that.” Jehan gently brushed his fingers through Grantaire’s curls. “You already know my thoughts on that matter, and I know that this is scary, I mean, you’ve been in love with him for how long? A year?”

“Something like that,” Grantaire mumbled.

“And now he’s here and I get that it might be a little overwhelming, but you’ll be just fine.” Jehan picked up a dish towel and started drying off plates. “Just try to make the most of it, okay? Don’t over-think.”

“It’s just really hard not to,” Grantaire said. He knew Jehan was right, he shouldn’t let his insecurities get the best of him. But he just didn’t understand. Guys like Enjolras, guys who were smart and ambitious and overwhelmingly beautiful, guys like him didn’t date guys like Grantaire. They just didn’t. And guys like Grantaire really weren’t that lucky.

Jehan gently pushed him away from the sink. “I got this.”

“But-”

“No, I’m serious, just go.”

Jehan had to push him out the door, too, and across the hall into the living room, where Enjolras was lying on the couch, curled up in a ball, blond curls falling across his face.

Grantaire sighed heavily, but sat down next to him, smiling when Enjolras lifted his head to pillow it on his lap.

* * *

Enjolras did feel somewhat bad for Grantaire. Combeferre and Courfeyrac knew what he was like when he was nervous. They put up with the pacing and the prolonged silences, they knew that Enjolras would calm down eventually, but Grantaire, well, he was now sitting on his bed, watching as Enjolras paced up and down in the narrow space between his desk and his bed, trying to calm himself down somehow.

It was Sunday evening, they’d spent a wonderful today day together, had gone on a walk along the river, Grantaire had bought him dinner, then they’d watched a movie and Grantaire hadn’t complained when Enjolras had suggested they go to bed early because they both had places to be in the morning.

Grantaire had only shucked off his jeans and had fallen straight into bed after he’d returned from the bathroom, his eyes following Enjolras, who’d meant to do just the same, but had trouble sitting still at the moment.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire said softly, “can I help?”

“I’m just a little nervous,” Enjolras whispered and sat down at the edge of the bed. Grantaire was there instantly and wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“What if you just lie down with me and let me distract you for a bit?” Grantaire mumbled, nuzzling into his hair. “I’m good at that.”

Grantaire undoubtedly was – he had Enjolras down on the mattress and at the mercy of his mouth and hands within seconds, pushing his shirt out of the way, peppering his stomach and his chest with kisses until he’d made his way up to his lips.

Enjolras squirmed when Grantaire’s fingers brushed along the waistband of his boxers. “How much distraction _exactly_ do you need?” Grantaire asked, completely still now, eyes locking with Enjolras’.

Enjolras remained silent for a second, pondering. They hadn’t talked about this. So far things had just fallen into place and, yes, he wanted this, but he felt that the mere thought of sleeping with Grantaire right now would make him even more nervous than he already was. For the first time in his life he felt like cursing his own inexperience.

Obviously he didn’t know every single detail of how Grantaire had lived his life ever since they’d started talking, but Enjolras was pretty sure that Grantaire hadn’t lived like a monk, although he couldn’t think of any occasion, at least during the last couple of months, where Grantaire had mentioned going out on a date or spending the night with anyone.

In any case, Enjolras was sure that experience-wise Grantaire was still far, far ahead of him in that department, even though Grantaire had been strangely reluctant, which Enjolras really hadn’t expected him to be.

Enjolras was starting to get impatient and if he had taken a few very, very cold showers in the last week, then that was his own business. The problem was that he himself was too reluctant to do something about it.

Grantaire sat up, looking down at him, his expression worried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to push you or anything. I’m really sorry, shit, Enjolras, please don’t-”

“It’s okay,” Enjolras said quickly and reached for Grantaire’s hand, “I just don’t…” He shook his head. Sometimes the English language failed him. “Let’s just go to sleep,” Enjolras said, hoping Grantaire would just forget about it. “Please.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” Grantaire mumbled as he lay down next to Enjolras. “I can go back to the couch if you want me to.”

“No, of course I don’t want that,” Enjolras said and wrapped an arm around him. “Stay right here.” He hooked a leg around Grantaire and pulled him closer, kissed him thoroughly, fingers twined in his hair, hips rocking against him. “Stay right here,” he whispered again, and okay, this was good, this was excellent.

His initial doubts were soon forgotten, even though he was dimly aware that he wasn’t really doing much except for clinging to Grantaire, although Grantaire didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Grantaire’s hand wandered back to where it had been before, only this time Enjolras nodded.

Enjolras let out a soft sigh when Grantaire tucked down his boxers and took his cock in hand, stroking him slowly until Enjolras was a whimpering and pleading mess. Grantaire was quick to figure out what Enjolras liked, what made him moan loud enough for Jehan to hear – Enjolras didn’t even want to think about that – and what pace was just right.

Enjolras came with his face hidden in the crook of Grantaire’s neck, fingers digging into his skin.

Grantaire quickly cleaned him up, with what Enjolras did not know, and even though he fully intended to reciprocate, he was glad when Grantaire batted his hand away and cradled him against his chest, telling him to go to sleep.

* * *

“You made me lunch?”

Grantaire shrugged. He’d woken up at five in the morning and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. After watching the rise and fall of Enjolras’ chest for a while, he’d eventually extracted himself from his embrace, which was easier said than done, and had padded down the hall to the kitchen to make breakfast.

It had become a bit of a habit to cook when he was stressed or feeling anxious and it helped most of the time, just like playing the guitar and smoking on the fire escape did. He didn’t want to wake up the whole neighborhood, though, and he’d promised himself to cut down on the smoking and drinking while Enjolras was here, so that wasn’t an option either.  

Breakfast had been done far too soon, so he’d moved on to making sandwiches for lunch. He’d packed one of them for Enjolras, who now looked like Grantaire had given him the gift of a lifetime.

“It’s just a sandwich,” Grantaire mumbled. “I thought you might get hungry at some point, so yeah…” He trailed off and shrugged again. He then poured a cup of coffee for Enjolras to busy his hands.

“Thank you,” Enjolras said when he accepted the mug from Grantaire. “And thanks for the sandwich.”

“It’s what good boyfriends do,” Grantaire said, freezing when he realized what he’d just said. “Or something like that,” he whispered. He cleared his throat noisily. “Anyway, I made pancakes, do you want some?”

“Yes, thank you,” Enjolras said and took a step closer, so he could kiss Grantaire on the cheek. “I hope no one will make fun of me at work because my boyfriend made me lunch.”

Grantaire laughed nervously. _Boyfriend_. He had a boyfriend now.

* * *

Enjolras wasn’t quite sure why he was so nervous. He’d exchanged many emails with Mr. Valjean, the founder and director of the charity organization he’d spend the following two months working for, and he’d seemed incredibly nice and obliging. He had no doubt they would get along, although Enjolras was certain that he wouldn’t be spending all of his time with Mr. Valjean. He was just an intern after all.

He checked his phone one more time, found a text from Grantaire with all kinds of encouragements, then he walked into the tall office building Valjean’s organization had its seat in. He went up to the fourteenth floor and was greeted by a very excited receptionist.

“Good morning,” she said, flashing him a bright smile. “How can I help you?”

“I’m doing an internship with Mr. Valjean,” Enjolras explained.

Somehow the receptionist’s smile grew ever wider. “Oh, how lovely, just take a seat over there, someone will come get you in a bit.”

Enjolras thanked her, wondering how people here managed to look so goddamned cheerful all the time, and sat down on the couch she’d pointed at. Enjolras spent the next couple of minutes tapping his foot restlessly, until a blonde girl appeared by his side.

“François Enjolras, I presume?” she said and shook his hand. “I’m Cosette, Mr. Valjean’s daughter, and I’m afraid you might end up being my intern.”

“I could think of a worse fate than that,” Enjolras said. “It’s very nice to meet you. And call me Enjolras if that’s not too much of a problem.”

“I’ll make sure to remember. Your English is really good, by the way” Cosette remarked. “You are French, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, but I have a friend here in New York, and he’d tell you that he’s solely responsible for ridding me of my atrocious French accent.” He knew Grantaire had been joking when he’d said that. As a matter of fact, Grantaire had often told him how adorable his accent was and Enjolras had tried not to blush furiously every time he did.

Cosette laughed and led him into the office space, pointing at different offices and explaining who did what and promising she’d introduce him to Valjean when he’d returned from his  morning meeting. She also introduced him to Feuilly, who was in charge of PR, just like her.

Enjolras spent most of his morning looking up contact details for them and listened to them as they called people who might be convinced to support one of their causes.

In the course of the day Enjolras learned that Feuilly actually spoke French fluently, then he met Mr. Valjean, who welcomed him heartily, but soon had to rush off to meet one of his most important supporters. In the afternoon Feuilly and Cosette allowed him to make calls as well and Enjolras soon noticed that Americans weren’t cheerful at all when a stranger called them to ask for money.

“Don’t look so sad, Enjolras,” Cosette said, when yet another person had hung up on him, “we’re usually not too successful with this, we mainly find backers at events that father sends us to.”

“You know, Upper East Side parties,” Feuilly added. “Galas, balls, those kinds of events. Rich people love giving away their money in public, they want other people to see how generous they are.”

Enjolras nodded, suddenly feeling reminded of his parents. The more Feuilly told him about the events he went to with Cosette, the more wondering if he’d have to show up at one those as well and if he should have brought a suit.

When he got home, Grantaire wasn’t there yet and Enjolras distinctly remembered him talking about some changes in his schedules. It hadn’t sounded like anything major, but Enjolras probably should have asked him about it.

Since he wasn’t sure when Grantaire would get home, it wouldn’t have made much sense for him to get them something to eat, because it would get cold before Grantaire got here. Grantaire might even bring food for them.

Enjolras fetched his laptop, wrote a blog entry about his first day at work and somehow managed to not fall asleep at Grantaire’s desk, even though his eyes kept fluttering shut insistently. He eventually went to the living room and turned on the TV to keep himself awake.

Grantaire got home at half past eight and dropped two plastic bags full of food in Enjolras’ lap. “Please tell me you haven’t eaten.”

“I haven’t eaten,” Enjolras confirmed dutifully and tugged Grantaire down on the couch next to him.

“How was your first day at work?” Grantaire asked as he picked up one of the takeout boxes. “Did you save the world?”

“I tried,” Enjolras mumbled and leaned against him. “’s not that easy.”

“Hey, hey, don’t fall asleep, eat first,” Grantaire said and tried to get him to eat a fry. “I guess it was pretty exhausting, hm?”

“A bit.” Enjolras hadn’t expected to be this tired at the end of the day. He definitely enjoyed working with Feuilly and Cosette, they were both great people, but he had to admit that he would have thought their work to be easier. That it wouldn’t be so hard to find supporters. Actually it had been demoralizing more than anything else.

Grantaire hummed and handed him some chicken. “It’ll get easier.”

“I hope so,” Enjolras said. “How was your day?”

“I sold lots and lots of coffee,” Grantaire said, smiling at him. “That’s it.”

“You didn’t use to work this long on Mondays, did you?” Enjolras asked.

“Oh no, were you waiting for me?” Grantaire sat up, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I probably should have mentioned that. I work two shifts at the café on Mondays now and I dropped one of my shifts at the club, the one on Friday evening, so I kinda needed to compensate for that.”

“I should come to that café and buy some coffee from you soon,” Enjolras said.

“I’ll make you the best coffee you’ve ever had, I promise.”

* * *

They fell into a routine quickly. Grantaire walked Enjolras to the subway when he had the morning shift at the café, when he worked at the club and came back home in the dead of the night, Enjolras wrapped himself around him and kissed his neck before he went back to sleep. On Wednesdays, when Grantaire didn’t have to go into work, he went to Manhattan and took Enjolras out for lunch. On Saturday afternoons they went up on the roof if the weather allowed it and Enjolras asked him to play songs for him on his guitar.

Sometimes Enjolras sent him texts during lunch breaks, mostly to complain about snobby New Yorkers, sometimes, on much rarer occasions, to tell him that he couldn’t wait to see him, which was usually when Grantaire started giggling in the middle of work. His co-workers had long since stopped shooting him weird looks.

Sometimes Enjolras called his friends, sometimes Grantaire was there with him, sometimes Jehan went out to dinner with them, sometimes they went out with Enjolras’ new friends from the office.

Being with Enjolras was surprisingly easy. Grantaire was still convinced that things were going a little too well for him, especially when Grantaire got a call from the manager of the little club he sometimes played gigs at called him, asking him if he could help him out and play a show on Friday, because the band he’d booked had cancelled on him and he needed a last minute replacement.

When he’d hung up, he just absent-mindedly stared at the cupcake tray for a couple of minutes, and then he sent a text to Enjolras.

_You: okay so i know i promised to take you out on a date on friday but something came up i kinda have to play a gig_

Enjolras didn’t reply until about two hours later.

_Enjolras: I actually wanted to talk to you about Friday night as well. I might have to stay at the office a little longer than usual. I might just join you later to watch your show, would that be okay?_

Well, maybe Grantaire was a tiny bit disappointed that Enjolras wouldn’t be there to watch his whole set, then again, Enjolras listened to him play every time he picked up his guitar or sat down at his keyboard.

_You: sure that’s fine_

_Enjolras: We should still go out on that date, though._

_You: i agree_

_You: maybe tonight_

_You: we can do stuff_

_You: that involves the both of us and our bed_

_You: how does that sound_

_Enjolras: Grantaire, I’m at work._

_You: so_

_Enjolras: Stop sending me inappropriate texts._

_You: there was nothing inappropriate about those texts_

_You: seriously I could have been talking about the two of us just sleeping_

_You: we can cuddle_

_You: and then I might suck you off_

_You: see that was inappropriate_

_You: but i do love sucking you off_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_You: the noises you make enjolras_

_You: they do things to me_

_Enjolras: Stop it._

Grantaire could only imagine how flustered Enjolras was looking right now. He was actually a little sad that he couldn’t see his face. Anyway, stopping really wasn’t an option.

_You: are you blushing_

_You: i bet you are_

_You: just imagine how much you’ll be blushing when I have your cock in my mouth_

_You: i hope you’re not thinking about that right now_

_You: that might be a little inconvenient since you’re at work and someone might see how much you want my mouth on your dick_

_Enjolras: I’m not going to look at your texts anymore. I’ll see you tonight._

_You: looking forward to that_

_You: :) :)_

* * *

Enjolras knew he was late. He was really, very late. He’d meant to leave the office over an hour ago, but then he’d got caught up planning a fundraiser with Feuilly, which they technically hadn’t had to start on until next week, but they’d come up with one great idea after another and now it was past ten and Enjolras was just so, so late.

Grantaire was going to hate him forever.

Enjolras had always known that he’d make a horrible boyfriend, although, if he was honest with himself, he’d always thought that he’d never end up being anyone’s boyfriend anyway. But now he was and he was already failing. He should have asked Courfeyrac for advice a long time ago.

The club Grantaire was playing at luckily wasn’t too hard to find and Enjolras easily found Jehan, who was sitting in a booth with a guy Enjolras had never seen before. He was tall and looked like he could knock him out with nothing but his pinky finger.

Enjolras decided that it might be safer to just stand at the other side of the tiny club and leave the two of them alone for now. He looked at Grantaire instead, up on the stage, his guitar in hand, strumming it gently. Enjolras loved his voice, he loved the passion Grantaire sang his songs with, he loved the way he felt when Grantaire sang to him.

He never took his eyes off him, could pinpoint the moment that Grantaire spotted him in the quite impressive crowd, because he smiled and when he started playing his next song, it was Enjolras’ favorite.

Enjolras didn’t pretend to understand what some of Grantaire’s songs were about, they were pretty cryptic at times, but they still touched him, and as far as Enjolras was concerned that really was the point of it.  

Sadly, Grantaire soon reached the end of his set, played another two songs when people asked for more, smiling broadly when he stumbled off the stage and right into Enjolras’ arms.

“You’re here,” Grantaire muttered and kissed him sloppily. He tasted like beer and smelled like cigarette smoke. Enjolras still pulled him closer.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here,” Enjolras said.

“It’s okay, you had work to do.” Grantaire smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s get you a drink. Let’s get me a drink, too.”

Enjolras let Grantaire lead him to the bar, accepted the beer he was handed, even though he wasn’t actually that fond of beer, and followed Grantaire back to the table Jehan was sitting at with the really tall guy who was introduced to him as Bahorel and who only looked terrifying, but actually really wasn’t. Apparently Grantaire went boxing with him every now and then.

Grantaire kept talking to people who came by to compliment his music and Enjolras hardly had time to talk to him save for a few comments here and there. He didn’t complain when Enjolras kept an arm wrapped around him for the rest of the night.

Bahorel and Jehan – mostly Bahorel, though – helped them pack up Grantaire’s guitar and his keyboard and the rest of his equipment and packed it all into a van to take it back to Grantaire’s apartment. They managed to put it all back where it belonged without waking up the whole building and then Enjolras got to witness Bahorel and Grantaire discussing whether or not Bahorel should accept money from Grantaire for his services.

Jehan very abruptly ended their discussion by shoving Bahorel out of the apartment, promising Grantaire that he’d buy him a beer for his troubles, and told them not to wait up for him.

Grantaire only snorted and locked the door behind them.

“So,” Enjolras asked, leading Grantaire back to his room, “are they… a thing?”

“Sometimes, I guess,” Grantaire said and started pushing his instruments in their rightful place.

Enjolras watched him, smiling. “You were amazing tonight.”

“Enjolras, you saw about a quarter of the show,” Grantaire mumbled, frowning at him.

Enjolras frowned right back at him, not sure why Grantaire was in such a bad mood all of a sudden. “Well, what I saw was amazing.”

“See, that’s how I can tell that you don’t know shit about music, because if you did, you wouldn’t say that.”

“The other people there seemed to agree with me, though.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “They were just being nice.”

“I’m sure they meant it,” Enjolras insisted.

“Enjolras, just let it go, okay?”

“But there were so many people there and they all wanted to hear you play, that’s a good thing, right?”

“It wasn’t that many people. I mean, in a club that small a dozen people would look like a huge crowd.”

“Still,” Enjolras grumbled.

Grantaire smiled smugly. “What a compelling argument.”

Enjolras only glared at him and let himself fall back onto the bed, his feet still dangling off the edge. Grantaire chuckled and tugged Enjolras’ shoes off, then his socks and his trousers, then his shirt, followed by his boxers.

Enjolras hummed. “I see you have plans.”

“I do,” Grantaire said, smirking as he started to take off his own clothes. He didn’t take his time, didn’t put on a show for Enjolras, who still felt entertained enough, tracing the patterns on Grantaire’s skin with his eyes as one article of clothing after the other started to come off.

Enjolras liked Grantaire’s tattoos, loved just looking at them and wondering when and why Grantaire had got them. Sometimes he’d say, “Tell me about this one,” and Grantaire would oblige and tell him stories that were either meaningful or started with, _well, this one time I was really drunk_ …, there really was no in between.

Grantaire joined him on the bed, kissed along his collarbones and then flopped down onto Enjolras, their legs all tangled, his head on Enjolras’ chest, lazily nosing along his skin, dropping a few sloppy kisses here and there.

“I changed my mind,” Grantaire whispered, his fingers trailing up Enjolras’ side, “let’s sleep, I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Anything you want,” Enjolras said seriously.

“See, that’s what I was about to say to you,” Grantaire whispered, “but if you really want to sleep, then that’s absolutely fine.”

“You are the one who wanted to sleep,” Enjolras reminded him, a shiver running right through him when Grantaire’s thumb brushed over one of his nipples. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“What do you want, then?” Grantaire asked, shifting slowly and crawling down to settle between Enjolras’ legs.

Enjolras propped his head up on his arm so he could watch as Grantaire started to kiss the inside of his thigh, his stubble rough against his soft skin. Grantaire looked up, checking on him as always before he started licking at Enjolras’ cock.

He was just teasing now, Enjolras knew, Grantaire was taking it slow so Enjolras would beg, but he wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Or at least that was what he kept telling himself when Grantaire lightly sucked at his balls and then moved on to plant a kiss on the head of his dick. He wouldn’t beg, no, he wouldn’t, not even when Grantaire slicked up a finger, refusing to add a second one, just smiling contently when Enjolras bucked his hips, whimpering because it wasn’t enough. It had been entirely involuntarily, though. He wouldn’t beg.

Grantaire took the head of his cock into his mouth then, hollowing his cheeks, and he looked so beautiful, his lips pink and a little swollen, swallowing him down, long, dark lashes curving against his cheeks, a graze of stubble tickling every now and then that made Enjolras whimper.

He would not beg, he would not– “Grantaire, for the love of god, just get on with it.”

Grantaire looked up, brushing his fingers over Enjolras’ hipbone as he pulled back. His hair somehow looked disheveled already, although Enjolras hadn’t even touched it.

“Please,” Enjolras said when Grantaire only kept looking at him, his head tilted, twisting his finger once or twice, smiling smugly when Enjolras whined.

“As you wish,” Grantaire muttered and added another finger, almost driving him crazy with his still too-slow pace. “You know you only have to ask.”

Enjolras let his head fall back, sucking in a deep breath. The night Grantaire had figured out how much he liked this had been a glorious one, because Grantaire had incredibly talented fingers and it felt so incredibly good. But it still wasn’t enough.

Even though he feared he might be a little too blunt, he lifted his head again, looking at Grantaire. “Do you want to fuck me?” he whispered.

Grantaire froze at first, leaning down slowly to kiss him, a little roughly maybe, much to Enjolras’ delight. He nodded. “Yes,” he said, pressing another kiss to his lips, “yes, I do.”

“Go on, then,” Enjolras said and Grantaire started moving again, making sure he was ready, keeping his touches light, driving Enjolras crazy.  “You played my favorite song,” he choked out, not quite sure how he was even still capable of forming sentences.

“Just for you,” Grantaire whispered, his breath tickling Enjolras skin’. He slowed his thrusts then, looking down at Enjolras, his bright blue eyes so much darker than usual. “You’re beautiful, you know?”

Yes, Enjolras did know. Grantaire wasn’t the first one to tell him so, but it had never meant anything to him up until now. He only smiled in response and tugged Grantaire down for another kiss.

They were lying side by side later on, both trying to catch their breath, their fingers barely touching on the mattress. Grantaire hooked his pinky around Enjolras’. “I’m going to miss you so much,” he whispered.

Enjolras sighed. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that he wasn’t going to stay forever.

* * *

Grantaire woke up with Enjolras wrapped around him, nothing unusual there, and smiled into the mess of blond curls that had somehow ended up in his face. He brushed Enjolras’ hair back, carefully untangling a few knotted strands.

Enjolras didn’t actually seem to notice, only snuggled a little closer. When he did wake up he pressed a kiss to Grantaire’s chin that had probably been aimed at his lips.

“You once told me that you didn’t like sleeping in, you know?” Grantaire mused.

“I did?” Enjolras mumbled sleepily.

Grantaire hummed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did.”

“I lied,” Enjolras said quietly. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

“Fantastic idea,” Grantaire said, turning over slowly. Enjolras did make a fantastic big spoon. “Nothing you want to do today? I’m free until I have to leave for the club tonight.”

“I don’t think I can walk,” Enjolras muttered, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. “Or at least I don’t want to.”

“Fair enough,” Grantaire said, chuckling, “I’ll make you breakfast in a bit.”

Grantaire loved the mornings they got to spend together, trading lazy kissed before they eventually crawled out of bed and it was late enough for Enjolras not to complain about having bacon for breakfast, since they were actually having lunch.

After spending a couple of weeks with Enjolras, Grantaire had accepted that being with him just wasn’t hard. They’d started bickering occasionally, about what to get for dinner, about what to watch on TV, but it hadn’t been anything serious. Yes, it was easy. Until it suddenly wasn’t anymore.

Enjolras loved his job, that much was clear, and Grantaire did admire his dedication, but every now and then he found himself wishing that Enjolras would realize that staying at the office until ten p.m. might be a little excessive.

Sometimes Grantaire left for the club before Enjolras got home, once or twice Enjolras insisted that he needed to go into the office for a couple of hours on a Saturday, because he was planning some huge event with his colleagues and it just took up a lot of time.

Grantaire tried to patient. He tried to be understanding.

Obviously Enjolras hadn’t only come here to hang out with Grantaire, he was well aware of that, but he was doing an internship, it wasn’t even his real job. But if there was one person to take work way too seriously, it would obviously be Enjolras.

Maybe Grantaire was a little disappointed that they didn’t eat dinner together anymore, and maybe he was a little disappointed that Enjolras often went straight to bed after he got back from work – still wrapping his arms around Grantaire every night and giving him a kiss before he fell asleep, yes, but Grantaire wanted more than that. It just wasn’t the same as it had been during the first few weeks they’d spent together.

When Grantaire ran into Bahorel at the club one Tuesday night and he asked him if he wanted to have a beer or two before he headed home he said yes without even thinking about it. Usually he would have declined because he knew Enjolras was home by now and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed next to him – they only had three weeks left until Enjolras was going back home –but tonight he didn’t care.

Enjolras had promised to meet him for dinner before Grantaire had to leave for work. Then he’d texted him to let him know that he wouldn’t make it. Needless to say, Grantaire had been a tiny bit pissed off.

He didn’t know what time it was when he finally stumbled up the stairs to his apartment. Bahorel had dropped him off, deeming him not drunk enough to need assistance with making it upstairs.

He tried to be quiet when he toed off his shoes and snuck down the hall to his room. Enjolras was fast asleep, curled up on Grantaire’s side of the bed, the duvet kicked off, since it was about a billion degrees outside and Grantaire was pretty sure that it was twice as warm in his room. He tugged off his clothes, all except for his boxers, and threw himself into bed.

Only, Enjolras wasn’t really asleep. In fact, he was wide awake, glaring at Grantaire. “There you are,” he said icily.

Grantaire only groaned in reply. His vision was starting to blur and he really didn’t feel up for a conversation right about now.

“Are you drunk?” Enjolras asked, a little louder.

“Jus’ go to sleep,” Grantaire muttered.

Enjolras huffed angrily. “You _are_ drunk.”

“Jesus, don’t sound so fucking offended.”

Grantaire could feel Enjolras sit up. “Grantaire, it’s four in the morning, where have you been?”

“Out,” Grantaire grumbled and pulled a pillow over his head. “Lemme sleep.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras snapped. “Look at me.”

Grantaire pried an eye open and tugged the pillow to the side, hoping that was enough of an effort.

Enjolras frowned. “I was worried.”

“Too bad,” Grantaire said, “I wasn’t exactly happy either when you stood me up today, but hey, when it’s you it doesn’t matter, right?”

“I told you, something came up at work.”

“Yeah, it’s always work.”

“It’s important.”

“What am I, then?”

“You are important, too.” Enjolras looked even angrier than before now, although it was hard to tell in the darkness. “Of course you are.”

“Am I?” Grantaire asked. “Because I barely even see you anymore, so I can’t really be _that_ important to you.”

“Has it come to your mind that I’m working this hard to get Valjean’s attention, so he might ask me to come back? So I can come here and spend more time with you? He might even offer me a job, you know? Have you thought about that?”

Grantaire didn’t answer. To be honest, no, he hadn’t thought about that.

“I thought not,” Enjolras whispered and slipped out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

Enjolras didn’t even look around. “To the couch,” he said.

Grantaire knew he should probably follow him, but he was too drunk and too tired to actually do so. He set his alarm for early enough to catch Enjolras before he went to work and closed his eyes.

Much to his disappointment, the couch was empty when Grantaire went to check on Enjolras the next morning. He sighed and turned around to get some breakfast, almost barreling into Jehan on his way to the kitchen.

“So, um,” Jehan started, fiddling with his braid, “am I imagining things or did Enjolras sleep on the couch last night?”

Grantaire didn’t manage anything but a zombie groan. He thankfully found some coffee already waiting for him in the kitchen and when Grantaire tried to make himself some eggs and bacon, Jehan gently pushed him out of the way and did it for him.

“Okay,” he said as he shoveled food onto two plates, “I have about half an hour before I have to leave for work, so you better tell me what’s going on right now.”

Grantaire waited until they were both seated on the couch, then he started talking. “We fought. Sort of.”

“About what?” Jehan asked, abandoning his breakfast so he could stroke Grantaire’s hair.

Grantaire didn’t complain. “I kinda went out drinking with Bahorel after my shift at the club.” He paused, poking at his scrambled eggs. “And Enjolras wasn’t too happy about that.”

Jehan made a pained noise. “Well, of course he wasn’t.”

“He ditched me. We were supposed to meet for dinner yesterday and he fucking ditched me. And it wasn’t the first time. He just keeps doing it, he doesn’t give a shit, so why should I?”

“You don’t mean that,” Jehan said sternly. “Look, I’m not taking sides or anything, but that’s not exactly the same thing. Did you at least tell him that you weren’t coming home straight away?”

“I might have forgotten about that,” Grantaire whispered.

“Dude, you can do that with me, because I know you can be an irresponsible little shit sometimes, but you can’t do that to your boyfriend.”

“Right,” Grantaire mumbled, “my boyfriend.”

“That’s what he is,” Jehan said insistently.

Grantaire shrugged. “He’s going back home in three weeks.”

“So? You wouldn’t be the first one to pull off a long distance relationship,” Jehan said, sounding a little angry now.

Grantaire sighed. “I just want to make the most of it while he’s still here, but he’s at work all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to make it even worse.”

“Do you think I should apologize?”

Jehan threw him a look that left no doubt that, yes, he definitely should apologize. Well, looked like he was in for a trip to Manhattan.

* * *

_You: You need to help me._

_You: Courfeyrac._

_You: I’m serious, I need your advice._

_Courfeyrac: whats wrong_

_You: Grantaire probably hates me_

_You: I don’t know what to do_

_You: How do I make him not hate me??_

_Courfeyrac: oh no what did u do_

_You: What makes you think that this was my fault?_

_Courfeyrac: well_

_Courfeyrac: ive met you_

_You: We fought. And yes, it might have been my fault._

_You: But not entirely._

_Courfeyrac: apologize_

_You: It was his fault, too._

_Courfeyrac: still_

_Courfeyrac: just apologize_

_You: What if he still hates me after I apologize?_

_Courfeyrac: stop being such a drama queen_

_Courfeyrac: he doesnt hate u_

_Courfeyrac: just tell him ur sorry_

_You: Okay. How do you apologize to your boyfriend? Is there a special boyfriend apology etiquette?_

_Courfeyrac: enj pls combeferre is naked and hes right next to me stop being unnecessarily difficult_

_Courfeyrac: but to answer your question_

_Courfeyrac: flowers and chocolate are a good idea_

_Courfeyrac: although i feel like grantaire is more of an apology sex kinda guy_

“You seem distracted.”

Enjolras quickly looked up and shook his head. “No, I’m not, I’m listening.”

“You also keep checking your phone under the table.”

“Sorry,” Enjolras whispered. He glanced down one more time, because he’d received two more texts, this time from Combeferre.

_Combeferre: Sorry if Courfeyrac just traumatized you._

_Combeferre: I agree, though, you should apologize._

“No, it’s okay, we don’t have a strict no phone policy or anything, you know that,” Cosette said, patting him on the back. “Is something wrong?”

“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Feuilly added.

Cosette nodded enthusiastically. “We’re better at listening than any therapist in Manhattan. And we do it for free.”

“It’s just… a thing. A boyfriend thing.” Enjolras shrugged. This was his workplace, and even though Cosette and Feuilly were his friends, here they were his colleagues, too, he didn’t need to bother them with his issues. “It’s alright, though, I’ll work it out.”

“Or we can help you work it out,” Feuilly said and closed the lid of his laptop.

“Yeah, Grantaire is such a sweetheart,” Cosette said, “you should invite him to that charity gala next week. I’m sure daddy would love to meet him.”

“That’s a great idea. You could-”

There was a knock on the door and one of the ladies who worked at the reception poked her head inside. “Enjolras, there’s someone here to see you.”

They all looked up and Enjolras’ stomach gave a jolt when Grantaire appeared in the doorway, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, smiling at them hesitantly. “Sorry to just barge in like this, but I was wondering if I could talk to Enjolras for a minute?”

Enjolras looked at Cosette, wondering how she’d feel about her intern’s boyfriend just showing up at the office. Of course she knew him and Enjolras was pretty sure that she like him, too, but they were at work, not out drinking at some bar.

“Yes, of course,” Cosette said, giving Grantaire her brightest smile that she usually reserved for people she wanted to get money from. “It’s so nice to see you, Grantaire,” she added, her smile somehow growing even wider. “Actually, we were just talking about you.”

Enjolras tried for a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

“There was something I wanted to ask you, by the way,” Feuilly threw in. “You said you were a musician, right?”

Grantaire shrugged, eyes darting from Feuilly to Enjolras and back again. “Not full-time.”

“Well, I know a guy who owns a bar, I used to work for him every now and then, and he’s always looking for new people to play gigs there, you know, and he asked me if I knew anyone and I thought of you. Would you mind if I gave him your number?”

Grantaire only looked at him with wide eyes for a few seconds. “No, yeah, sure, that sounds great.”

“Now that you’ve cleared that up” Cosette said, turning to Enjolras, “why don’t you go take Grantaire out for lunch. Actually, with all the overtime you’ve been working, I guess it would be okay if you took the afternoon off.”

Feuilly nodded. “She’s right,” he said, “we’ll be fine without you for a couple of hours.”

“See you tomorrow,” Cosette added resolutely and almost pushed him off his chair.

“Thank you,” Enjolras said, stumbling to his feet, glancing at Grantaire warily. He wasn’t sure if he was in for another argument or a relaxed afternoon with his boyfriend. Obviously he had to go, no matter what, because Cosette surely wouldn’t let him stay, so he picked up his phone and his bag and took Grantaire by the hand to drag him towards the elevators.

Grantaire looked down at their intertwined fingers and squeezed his hand. “You’re not mad because I came to drag you out of work?”

Enjolras shook his head. Cosette had basically thrown him out of the office and even though he would have loved to help them out today, he’d messed up enough already. He wasn’t quite sure how to fix this, but he was sure that turning Grantaire away would have made things even worse.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Grantaire whispered, biting his lip. “I really am, sometimes I just act like an idiot, and I know that’s a horrible excuse, believe me. All I can do is promise that it’ll never happen again.”

“If we weren’t this close to the office, I’d kiss you right now,” Enjolras said and slipped an arm around Grantaire’s waist. “I was in a bad mood. And worried, really, I was _so_ worried about you. I nearly went to wake up Jehan, so I didn’t have to be worried on my own.”

Grantaire sighed. “Shit, Enjolras, I know I fucked up.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” Enjolras said, his grip on Grantaire tightening almost involuntarily. “And I don’t mean the going out part, obviously I’d never ask you not to do that, but please just tell me next time.”

“I was angry at you.” Grantaire quickly glanced up at him. “And I was acting like an ass, I know that.”

“You were angry because I spend too much time at work.” He’d got that much last night. He led Grantaire out of the elevator and out of the building. “You could have said something.” Enjolras just went on walking and Grantaire followed. “I mean, earlier. Before you went on a passive-aggressive pub crawl.”

“But I know that this internship is important to you,” Grantaire said. “I didn’t want to get in your way of… I don’t know, of you doing what you love doing, I guess.”

Enjolras stopped dead, gripping Grantaire by the shoulders. “I didn’t spend ages trying to find a suitable internship in New York for no reason. I did that because you are here. I wanted to meet you. I wanted to be with you and I still do. I know I get caught up in the work I do, and I need people to remind me not to. That’s usually Combeferre’s job. Anyway, we’ve been planning this really great thing and I’m very excited about it.”

Grantaire almost smiled at that, so maybe Enjolras had managed to do something right. He’d never been good at apologies – saying sorry had never come easy to him.

“Want to tell me more about that mysterious thing?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras took Grantaire by the hand again and started talking about venues and catering and guest lists and Grantaire listened patiently, throwing in a comment every now and then. “…so we ended up booking this huge ballroom and there’ll be a lot of important people, it’s going to be amazing.”

“That does sound great and it also sounds like you’ll be wearing a suit, which I’m really looking forward to,” Grantaire mused.

“Do you have one?” Enjolras asked him. “A suit, I mean.”

“A suit,” Grantaire echoed, frowning. “I do, but I don’t think mine’s going to fit you, I mean of course you can try it on, but I guess you’ll have to rent one or-”

“I meant for you to wear,” Enjolras interrupted. Cosette had already made arrangements to get him a suit, so that wouldn’t be a problem.

“For me?” Grantaire asked, obviously confused now. “I don’t wear that suit. Ever. I might make an exception if you ask nicely, though.”

“Well, I am asking nicely,” Enjolras said. “I want you to come with me and you’ll need to wear it.”

“You want me to come to your super amazing Upper East Side charity event,” Grantaire said slowly. “Me. You want me to be seen with you. There.”

Enjolras nodded. “That is the plan. And I don’t think it’s an Upper East Side thing.”

“People are going to see us together,” Grantaire said slowly.

“And you don’t want that?” Enjolras asked. He didn’t quite understand why. “Obviously I won’t be angry if you don’t want to, but I’d love for you to come.”

“Enjolras, you can’t just bring your useless musician boyfriend to one of those events. You can put me in a suit, but I’ll never be one of those people.” He shrugged helplessly. “I just… I don’t want you to be embarrassed.”

“Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Do I really need to repeat the part about me being a useless member of society?”

“You’re not useless,” Enjolras said.

“Wow, you kinda sounded offended there.”

“I am. You are not useless,” Enjolras repeated. Grantaire was special and he meant so, so much to Enjolras, he just wasn’t sure how to make him understand. “Please come with me.”

“I’ll come with you if you really want me to,” Grantaire said, “but don’t feel like you have to ask me because I’m your boyfriend or anything.”

“I’m not. I really do want you to come.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Good.”

“Right, so, if I remember correctly, Cosette said something about you taking me out for lunch.”

Enjolras laughed and steered Grantaire down the street toward his favorite bistro.

* * *

Grantaire frowned at the mirror and his reflection frowned right back at him.

His suit still fit, thankfully, even though he hadn’t worn it in about two years – the last time had been some really fancy gallery opening that Jehan had somehow got them on the guest list for. Grantaire was now fiddling with the tie Jehan had bought him for that exact occasion. It was blue and apparently it brought out his eyes – at least according to Jehan, who actually shouldn’t be trusted when it came to clothing choices. Jehan looked like he got dressed in the dark by default.

Anyway, Grantaire didn’t know how ties worked and Jehan, who usually came to his rescue in a situation like this one, was out with Bahorel, and Enjolras was in his room, talking to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, and even though Grantaire was sure Enjolras could help him, he didn’t want to intrude.

Enjolras hadn’t had much time to talk to them lately, and Grantaire was sure that he missed them terribly. He talked about them all the time and then got that sad puppy dog look that Grantaire just wanted to kiss away every single time.

He was still out in the hallway, tugging at his suit, his tie hanging abandoned on the coat rack, when Enjolras came out of his room, wearing a dark gray three piece suit and a bowtie, his hair pulled back into a bun.

Grantaire swallowed hard. Enjolras looked beautiful, completely out of this world, actually, and Grantaire once again wasn’t quite sure what he’d done right to end up with this incredibly gorgeous human being. He might have also made an involuntary whimpering sound when he’d laid eyes on him.

Grantaire just couldn’t compare to this, not in a million years.

“Something wrong?” Enjolras asked, looking down, inspecting his suit. He closed the distance between them, picking Grantaire’s tie off the coat rack. “You look…” Enjolras ran his fingers down the lapels of Grantaire’s suit. “You look fantastic.”

Grantaire snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Enjolras pursed his lips, making quick work of Grantaire’s tie. “You do. Believe me for once?”

“I look like a trashcan compared to you,” Grantaire said and gave Enjolras a peck on the lips. “I mean, look at you. This suit is a gift. I can’t wait to take it off of you.”

“And what makes you think that I don’t feel exactly the same way about you?” Enjolras whispered and gave Grantaire’s ass a quick squeeze.

“You won’t be having trouble keeping your hands to yourself tonight, though, will you?” Grantaire said, his arms sneaking around Enjolras’ waist. “What is your boss going to say?”

Enjolras hummed, resting his chin on Grantaire’s head. “I suppose I’ll just have to be patient.”

“Ah, which means I’ll have to be patient as well,” Grantaire grumbled, breathing in deeply because Enjolras smelled so good and he just wanted to– okay, yeah, he needed to stop right there, because they had to leave soon and now really was not the time for an awkward boner. “Are you nervous?” Grantaire asked instead, trailing his fingers up and down Enjolras’ back.

“A little,” Enjolras said lowly. “Actually, now that I think about it, maybe not just a little.”

“It’ll be fine, you’ve been planning this for so long, nothing can go wrong,” Grantaire said. “People are going to throw their money at you, I promise.”

Enjolras chuckled. “I hope so. I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

Grantaire smiled up at him. _Glad_ wasn’t the word he’d use to describe his feelings, _horribly anxious_ was a better way of putting it, but Enjolras looked so happy right now, so Grantaire just told himself to suck it up. Enjolras needed him, so he’d be there.

They were picked up by Cosette in a sleek, black car a while later. She seemed to be even more nervous than Enjolras, though, and kept picking at the hem of her pink cocktail dress, going on and on about things that might go wrong, until Enjolras took her hand and repeated Grantaire’s exact words. Everything was going to be fine.

When they arrived at the still empty ballroom, Enjolras’ colleague Feuilly was already there, chatting to the waiting staff. Cosette went to join them and when Enjolras hovered by Grantaire’s side, he told him to go do his fucking job.

Grantaire busied himself watching the string quartet rehearse and wandered around the empty ballroom for a bit, wondering how mad Enjolras would be if he quickly stepped outside for a smoke. He didn’t smoke a lot, mainly because he just couldn’t afford it, but it still was a bit of a nervous habit of his and he always had two or three emergency cigarettes with him, just in case.

He thankfully didn’t have much time to think about what to do, because Enjolras’ boss, Mr. Valjean showed up and introduced himself, shaking Grantaire’s hand firmly, telling him how happy he was that he’d made it. Grantaire only nodded, quite relieved when Enjolras swept in to take him to their table.

Much to his surprise, Enjolras let himself fall onto the chair next to his. “Don’t you have to go… I don’t know, go talk people into selling you their soul or something?” Grantaire asked.

“I’m only an intern,” Enjolras said, smiling. “Maybe I’ll get to talk to people later, but I’m not actually one of Valjean’s representatives.”

The ballroom filled up quickly, and soon Valjean stepped onto the stage, thanking everyone for coming and thanking his helpers, “…my wonderful daughter, Cosette, one of our most valuable employees, Feuilly, and the most dedicated intern we’ve ever had, Enjolras, who’ll sadly be leaving us in two weeks time.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving so soon,” Feuilly mumbled.

“I can’t believe you’ve been here for this long,” Cosette added.

Feuilly chuckled and patted Enjolras on the back. “You’re almost American now.”

“I’m still mourning the loss of his French accent, to be honest,” Grantaire said to Cosette.

“Did he ever even have one?” Cosette asked curiously.

“Oh, yeah, it was-”

“Don’t say it,” Enjolras grumbled.

“It was adorable,” Grantaire whispered.

Enjolras rolled his eyes, but reached for his hand at the same time. They stayed at their table for a while, whispering about people that passed them, until Valjean appeared again. “Enjolras, there are some people I’d like you to meet, maybe your boyfriend can do without you for a bit?”

Grantaire actually would have been happy to stay by Enjolras’ side for the rest of the evening and also for the remainder of the time Enjolras was still in the same country as him, but obviously this was a great opportunity for Enjolras to… mingle, or whatever it was that people did at these events.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Cosette said and took Grantaire by the arm. “Come on, we’re getting a drink.”

Grantaire nodded and let her drag him away willingly. A drink was exactly what he needed right now.

“So, Enjolras is staying with you, isn’t he? In Brooklyn?”Cosette asked conversationally as she handed him a martini with extra olives.

Not exactly Grantaire’s favorite, but it’d do. “Yeah, he is.”

“Oh, wonderful. How did you guys meet? You never told me,” Cosette said. “I don’t mean to be nosy,” she added, “but you two make such a sweet pair.”

“We, um… we kinda started arguing in the comment section of a blog post. Nearly two years ago. Sorry, it’s really nothing exciting.” He shrugged and reminded himself that downing that entire martini probably wasn’t the best of ideas.

“And you fell in love?” Cosette asked. Grantaire was pretty sure that he could see little hearts in her eyes that matched the color of her dress.

Grantaire tugged his fingers through his curls. “Well, yeah. I mean, I can’t speak for Enjolras, obviously, but…” Yes, he’d fallen in love with Enjolras so fast, he’d barely even noticed.

Cosette put a hand on his shoulder, smiling up at him. “Is he going to come back soon?”

“I’m not sure,” Grantaire said quietly. He didn’t really want to talk about this. It hurt just to think about it.

“My father is quite fond of him, you know? We have a branch in Paris and we have one in London, I’m pretty sure that Enjolras could easily get a job with us once he graduates.”

“Even here?” Grantaire asked. He cursed himself for sounding as hopeful as he did.

Cosette laughed. “Yes, even here. He’s very dedicated, really smart, and ambitious as well, he could probably take his pick.” She looked around the ballroom, finding Enjolras, who was talking to an elderly man in a suit that had probably cost more than what Grantaire earned in a year. “Don’t tell him yet, though. It’s a secret.”

“Okay, sure, I can keep a secret,” Grantaire said. It sounded a little good to be true, to be honest. He wasn’t sure if he’d want to be the one to tell Enjolras anyway. He might not even want to work here full time.

He had two other martinis with Cosette, his eyes never leaving Enjolras and his ridiculous three piece suit, then Feuilly joined them and wrote some guys phone number on a napkin, which he handed to Grantaire, telling him to give them a call because they were looking for a singer to open their show for them.

Enjolras joined them half an hour later and immediately slung an arm around Grantaire’s shoulder. “Can you come with me for a second?”

Grantaire frowned. “Yeah, sure.” He finished his martini and followed Enjolras out into the foyer and down the hall. “Where are we going?” he whispered.

Enjolras shushed him and pushed him into an alcove. Grantaire couldn’t even react quickly enough, he only stumbled backwards and let Enjolras push him against the wall and kiss him.

“You should wear a suit every day,” Enjolras whispered between kisses. “I just want to take you home and-”

“Please stop talking,” Grantaire grit out, trying not to rumple Enjolras’ suit, as much as he wanted to. “We were going to be patient, remember?”

“Forget what I said,” Enjolras muttered and gently nipped at his jaw. “I saw you looking at me and I just… and Valjean’s speech, he said I’d be leaving them soon and… that mean’s I’m leaving you, too.”

Enjolras grew very still all of a sudden, giving Grantaire the chance to pull him against him. “It’s okay, it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.” If he tried very hard, he might even manage to believe himself.

“I didn’t even realize we only had two weeks left, I was so caught up in work, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, Enjolras, don’t worry. We’ll have the greatest two weeks ever,” Grantaire whispered, holding him close for a little while longer until they eventually went back to the party.

Enjolras didn’t leave his side again, one hand always on the small of his back, making sure he didn’t stray too far.

* * *

Two weeks, it turned out, weren’t a long time at all.

Soon enough it was the evening before Enjolras’ last day of work. He needed to pack his suitcase. And he needed to talk to Grantaire. He’d been putting this off, mainly because he was absolutely terrified of having a conversation about the future – about _their_ future – but they needed to do this at some point.

Enjolras looked up from his laptop and glanced at Grantaire, who was idly plucking at the strings of his guitar. The corner of Grantaire’s mouth twitched upwards when he caught him watching him.

“What are we going to do?” Enjolras blurted out.

“Well, I was waiting for you to be done, but maybe we can just order in and watch a movie? Cuddle on the couch? Have sex on the couch? Jehan’s not home, so he won’t mind.” Grantaire’s lips curved into a smile. “Or, you know, whatever else you feel like doing.”

“I meant about us,” Enjolras said slowly. “When I go back to Paris.”

Grantaire’s face fell. “Oh… that.”

“I’m just not sure what’s going to happen,” Enjolras said helplessly.

“I know,” Grantaire said, shrugging, “I don’t know either.” He patted on the mattress. “Come here?”

Enjolras obliged and snuggled against Grantaire. It was much easier for him to wrap himself around Grantaire than the other way around, but he loved tucking his head under Grantaire’s chin and listening to his steady heartbeat.

“Listen,” Grantaire mumbled and started running his fingers through Enjolras’ curls, “you know that I’ve been saving up money so I can visit you, and if nothing comes up I might have enough in a couple of months. And then I’ll come see you in Paris.”

“But a couple of months are a long time,” Enjolras said lowly.

“I know, I’m sorry I can’t come there earlier.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Enjolras’ fingers curled Grantaire’s wrist. “Just promise you won’t use that money you’re saving up to record demos.”

“I won’t,” Grantaire muttered. He shifted so he could kiss Enjolras’ forehead. “We’ll see each other on skype. And we can text. We can write letters. Maybe I’ll send a carrier pigeon every now and then. I’ll send you Reese’s Pieces, I know you love those.”

Enjolras grinned. “That would be nice.”

“Yeah, I’m nice like that, you know me.”

“I’d rather have you bring me some, though.”

“I will.” Grantaire kissed him again. “Man, I wish you could stay.”

Enjolras only hummed. His thoughts were already a step further. People always kept saying how hard long-distance relationships were, how often they ended because people grew apart, and Enjolras didn’t want that to happen to them. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if Grantaire was even up for that kind of commitment.

“What is it?” Grantaire asked lightly. “Did you know that you start frowning when you’re thinking really hard?”

“Courfeyrac keeps telling me that,” Enjolras replied. “I was just wondering…”

“Yes?” Grantaire prompted.

Enjolras sat up, so he could look at Grantaire. “I’m not sure how to put this without sounding completely ridiculous, but you’re still going to be my boyfriend, right? Even when I’m gone?”

Grantaire shot him a look that told him rather explicitly that he hadn’t really managed to not sound ridiculous. “Yes, of course,” Grantaire answered. Now he was the one to frown. “That is, if you want me to. I mean, I get that we won’t see each other for a while, but I… I won’t see anyone else, I promise. I’ll just miss you a lot, that’s all I’ll be doing.”

“Good,” Enjolras mumbled. He wasn’t quite sure what else to say.

“Good,” Grantaire echoed. He looked a little too sad for Enjolras’ taste, but Enjolras himself didn’t actually feel like a ray of sunshine either. He actually felt like he was about to burst into tears, which he really didn’t want to do to Grantaire right now, so he buried his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck, not moving until they both fell asleep.

* * *

They spent Friday evening at Enjolras’ office, where his colleagues had planned a surprise party for him. Cosette had called Grantaire and had invited him and everyone else Grantaire thought Enjolras might want to have there.

He ended up bringing Jehan and Bahorel and they had a fantastic party and Grantaire was pretty sure that he saw Enjolras shed a tear when he hugged Cosette and Feuilly goodbye. He’d probably be crying like a baby in less than twenty-four hours when he took Enjolras to the airport.

They went straight to bed that night, just holding on to each other, even though it was about a hundred degrees in Grantaire’s room and them clinging to each other didn’t exactly help them cool down.

Grantaire’s alarm rang at four in the morning. And Enjolras surely wouldn’t be happy about him waking him up this early, but he could always sleep on his flight back to Paris later on. Grantaire had spent all week trying to come up with a plan, now he could only hope that everything was going to go smoothly.

Grantaire quickly silenced his phone and untangled himself from Enjolras, which proved a lot more difficult than usual, since Enjolras didn’t seem to want to let go of him. He eventually managed, made sure Enjolras was still fast asleep and snuck down the hall to the kitchen to make breakfast. He had a little trouble carrying all of it up to the roof, especially since he was trying really hard not to wake anyone up.

It was still dark, only the city lights lighting up the rooftop. Luckily the weather forecast hadn’t lied to him and it was pleasantly warm already. When he’d set everything up, he snuck back downstairs and went to wake up Enjolras.

Grantaire kissed him on the cheek and brushed his fingers through Enjolras’ hair.

Enjolras made a grumbling noise, but he opened his eyes, blinking up at Grantaire. “Hm?”

“I thought we could watch the sunrise,” Grantaire whispered. “Or I could come back to bed, but there’s breakfast on the rooftop, I thought you might be interested in that.”

Enjolras grumbled again, but this time it sounded a little more excited.

He followed Grantaire up to the roof and looked like he’d woken up at least a little bit by the time Grantaire handed him a paper plate with pancakes and a plastic cup with orange juice. “I have coffee, too,” Grantaire said. “And strawberries.”

Enjolras’ face lit up immediately. “Coffee,” he whispered.

“How did you even manage to get up as early as you did every morning?” Grantaire asked when he filled a cup with coffee from the thermos he’d brought.

“I have no idea,” Enjolras mumbled and started shoveling pancakes and into his mouth. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

“I was gonna get you donuts, too, just to give you the complete experience one more time, but then I was a bit short on time. Anyway, I guess this is enough, right? Because I can still go get donuts.” He was dimly aware that he was starting to babble and only stopped when Enjolras pressed a finger to his lips.

“It’s perfect,” Enjolras said. “Stay right here.” He put his plate to the side and inched a little closer, giving Grantaire a kiss that tasted like coffee and syrup and strawberries.

When Enjolras slowly eased him onto his back, Grantaire was suddenly glad that he’d ended up carrying so many blankets and pillows up here. “Please tell me you brought condoms,” Enjolras mumbled, his breath hot against Grantaire’s skin, “please tell me you don’t have to go downstairs to get them.”

Grantaire made a pained noise in the back of his throat. “Enjolras, we are on a rooftop, someone could see us.”

“It’s Saturday morning, no one’s awake yet,” Enjolras said, and oh, why was he suddenly so convincing. Grantaire usually had a hard time agreeing with Enjolras, but now it suddenly seemed so easy.

Enjolras took off his shirt, then he reached down to get Grantaire’s out of the way, too. “Well?” he asked, sounding impatient.

“Can’t think right now,” Grantaire mumbled, letting out a low moan when Enjolras’ tongue brushed over his nipple. It was strange how things had changed so much between them. In the beginning they’d both been so reluctant, so scared to do something wrong, and now they could barely take their hands off each other.

Not that Grantaire was complaining.

Enjolras had proven to be extremely talented with his hands. And his tongue.

“You didn’t bring anything,” Enjolras scolded, fingers digging into Grantaire’s skin.

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting this to happen,” Grantaire shot back and sat up, hooking his leg around Enjolras, so he could flip them around, and pinned him to the ground. “But if you could be patient for a couple of minutes, I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

“Oh, I’m sure I won’t,” Enjolras said, smiling up at him.

Grantaire sprinted down to the apartment and hurried down the hall to his room, stealthily, he hoped, because Jehan, too, was very fond of his beauty sleep. When Grantaire returned to the rooftop, Enjolras was still there, obviously, completely naked now, lazily stroking his dick.

“You started without me, huh?” Grantaire asked, kneeling down between Enjolras’ spread legs, enjoying the show for a minute or two until he couldn’t possibly keep still anymore. His hand joined Enjolras’, speeding up his strokes. Enjolras’ head fell back, his mouthed opened in a silent moan.

Grantaire smiled and leaned down in an attempt to kiss each and every one of his freckles, enjoying how he shivered beneath him. “Enjolras,” he mumbled against his lips, “do you mind if we switch?”

“Switch?” Enjolras echoed, his eyes flying open. “I’ve never…”

“We don’t have to,” Grantaire said quickly, planting a soft kiss on Enjolras’ lips.

“No, I want to.” Enjolras reached up to brush his fingers down Grantaire’s cheek. “I just don’t want to hurt you. Or do something wrong.”

“You won’t,” Grantaire assured him, switching their positions again.

Enjolras was clumsy when he opened him up, getting the angle right more by accident than anything else, but Grantaire hardly noticed, he was way too focused on the thought that Enjolras was doing this to him, reducing him to an incoherent mess.

Enjolras was still here with him and Grantaire forgot, just for a while, that tomorrow morning he wouldn’t be.

Enjolras settled between his thighs, pulling a blanket around them. Grantaire was entirely out of words by then, just concentrated on remembering how to breathe, holding on to Enjolras, feet and arms hooked around him, biting his lip to keep himself from crying out when Enjolras first thrust into him.

Enjolras moaned, screwing his eyes shut. Grantaire didn’t waste one thought about the neighbors.

Enjolras’ touches were gentle, he kept his thrusts slow and languid as if he didn’t want this to end and Grantaire understood, he understood so well, because they only had hours left and if he could, Grantaire would make sure that Enjolras could stay here with him forever.

Enjolras hardly had to touch him to make him come and if Grantaire whispered, “I love you,” when he did, well, then he didn’t regret it for one second. And if Enjolras whispered, “I love you, too,” in return, then Grantaire couldn’t do anything but smile and pull him close and enjoy having him here as long as he was.

* * *

Enjolras wasn’t quite sure for how long he’d be able to keep himself from crying. Saying goodbye to Jehan had been hard enough, now he was on the subway on the way to the airport, Grantaire next to him, holding his sweaty hand so tightly it hurt. Enjolras didn’t care.

There were so many things filling up his mind with useless noise, when all he wanted to do was to concentrate on Grantaire instead of the talk he’d had with Valjean the day before or the text from Courfeyrac and Combeferre, telling him how much they were looking forward to seeing him again or the incredibly long flight ahead or saying goodbye to Grantaire at the airport.

He’d almost asked him not to come, to make things easier for both of them, but had eventually decided not to. It would have been even worse to not have him there.

They got Enjolras’ boarding pass and checked his suitcase, had a meager dinner at the airport, Enjolras bought a novel he was sure he wouldn’t read, then they headed to the security gates.

Enjolras had every intention to just walk through and not look back at Grantaire under any circumstance, but first he had to say goodbye. He hadn’t for one second thought that this was going to be easy, but he hadn’t imagined it to be this hard either. He’d spent the most amazing two months of his life with him and now he was supposed to leave him.

Grantaire looked up at him and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly.

Enjolras let him. He wasn’t in a hurry, not yet at least. There was a clock right behind them and Enjolras could watch the minutes tick away until he was sure that he couldn’t possibly wait any longer.

“Grantaire, I have to go,” he said, feeling Grantaire’s arms tighten around him immediately.

“I know,” Grantaire answered.

“You have to let go,” Enjolras said, nuzzling into his air.

“I know,” Grantaire repeated. “I can’t.”

Enjolras didn’t let go either.

“Just one more minute,” Grantaire whispered eventually.

“Okay.” Enjolras didn’t feel capable of saying no to him right now. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“We’ll see each other soon, I promise,” Grantaire said, pulling away a little. “I’ll figure something out.” He quickly stole a kiss. “Are you sure you can’t just stay here?”

Enjolras managed a smile, even though he was pretty sure that there were tears swimming in his eyes. “I can’t impose on you forever.”

“Yes, you can,” Grantaire said and kissed him again.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Enjolras promised, wiping away a tear, even though it was followed by another one straight away.

“Please don’t cry, you’re going to make me cry, too,” Grantaire mumbled.

Enjolras glanced at the clock one more time. He was probably going to miss his flight if he didn’t leave right now. “I really have to go now. Thank you so much for everything.”

Grantaire bit his lip and nodded. “I suck at goodbyes.”

“So do I,” Enjolras muttered.

They hugged again, they kissed again, and after taking one last look at Grantaire, Enjolras finally tore himself away.

* * *

Grantaire stood frozen in place for a while, long after Enjolras had disappeared behind the security gates, then he turned around and headed back towards the subway, fishing his phone out of his pocket on the way.

First, he called in sick at work. There was no way he’d live through a shift at the club tonight.

Then he called Jehan, making sure he’d be there when he got home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I think I might write a third part, I feel like I can't stop now.


End file.
